


Thirty-Two Days

by starkdelinquents



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternative Universe - Hang the DJ, Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Fluff, I died at least ten times while writing this, One Shot, hang the dj au, spoilers for the Black Mirror ep "Hang the DJ" (in case it isn't obvious)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkdelinquents/pseuds/starkdelinquents
Summary: Clarke believed in the system. Bellamy believed in himself.ORThe Hang the DJ AU One Shot that stole my sleep, burned my crops, and delivered a plague onto this fandom.





	Thirty-Two Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cescalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cescalia/gifts).



Clarke believed in love. Or at least that’s what she told herself as she stared across the room at her match who was adding a fifth packet of sugar into his drink. She believed in love. She did.

And if that meant she had to endure another week of dating this guy so be it. “There’s a method to this madness,” she thought while she waited in line to order her drink. Trust the system. The system always works. She just had to be patient. After all, who would be stupid enough to turn down the chance of meeting their soulmate? All of this would be worth it one day. The more she repeated it to herself, the less it sounded like a lie.

“Next,” a voice called out. She averted her gaze from their table and briskly walked forward. Too late did she realize the small distance between where she stood earlier and the person turning around in front of her. Hot coffee spilled down the front of her shirt and she gasped in alarm.

She felt the stares of people around her as the buzzing of conversations came to a halt. It picked up again seconds later, but she remained as she was, red-faced and gaping at the man now holding an empty cup. She took him in slowly, staring at the dark curls that fell over his narrowed eyes and the freckles that adorned his cheeks. He towered over her with a stony look that made her want to run away, and the minute he opened his mouth she almost did.

“Great,” he said, frowning at his own stained clothes. “That’s just what I needed today.”

Clarke winced. “Look, I’m sorry-“

“No, really, this is fantastic,” he interjected, pulling out a familiar device from the pocket of his denim jeans. “Coach, there’s been an accident and I can’t make it to the date.”

A flash of blue circled the surface of the device before a monotone voice replied. “ _Are you in need of first aid_?”

“Uh…no…but my clothes are dirty now and I can’t show up with coffee stains, right?” he asked, emphasizing the last word as if his life depended on it.

“ _Clean clothes are only a recommendation, not a requirement_ ,” it answered back.

Glaring at the device, he asked, “So what does that mean? I still have to go?”

“ _Precisely_.”

He swore under his breath. Looking up, his eyes met hers and widened, only then realizing that she was still there.

Clarke swallowed down her bewilderment to form a polite, appropriate response. Instead, the words that spilled out of her were, “You really thought that would work?”

A brittle smile formed on his face as he tilted his head to the side, roaming his eyes over her with an analyzing look that made her toes curl. “Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Except it does hurt,” she thought, glancing at the stern men standing on watch near the entrance of the café. Their beady eyes roamed over everyone with malice. She had seen them in action only once when a man had refused to cooperate in the middle of one of his dates. They pounced on him with tasers quicker than she could blink.

His eyes followed hers and a sour look flashed on his face before he composed himself. “Asking a simple question isn’t a crime.”

Clarke crossed her arms. “Skirting around the rules might be.”

“Someone’s got to.”

He flashed her a smirk and the world seemed to shift underneath her feet. Clarke found herself unable to look away. The moment passed much to her relief and she nodded imperceptibly. “I should go.”

“Without buying me another coffee?” he questioned, raising a brow.

Clarke hesitated, thinking it over. “So you’re blaming me for this?”

“You walked into me sweetheart,” he replied with a sardonic smile. “I didn’t ask to be covered with espresso.”

“You sounded grateful enough to me,” she japed, not even sure why she was acting stubborn. It had nothing to do with wanting to continue this conversation rather than going back to her own date. Nothing at all.

But because the universe had a tendency to disappoint her at every turn, an arm wrapped around her waist in the next second.

“Everything alright?” her date asked. The forced smile on his face came naturally to him. Clarke matched his with one of her own, nodding airily.

Her eyes met the stranger’s once again. Whatever he saw in them made him briefly clench his jaw and walk away without a word. Her heart sank immediately. Everything her partner said went in one ear and out the other. She frowned as the silhouette of the stranger disappeared among the crowd of people.

 

* * *

 

When the week passed and she found herself waiting at the local restaurant for her next match, nervousness crept up on her. She willed herself to remain calm and unperturbed. Third time’s the charm, right?

She smoothed out her dress under the table and glanced around the room. The tranquil ambience did nothing to help her nerves. All around her were other couples on their first dates. She lost count of how many awkward smiles and strained conversations she spotted before she heard someone clear their throat. Her head snapped to the front and she felt her breath hitch.

His dark eyes didn’t stray from hers as he pulled out a chair and sat down. They studied each other in silence. He was dressed casually in a navy blue shirt and jeans, and suddenly she felt out of place in her red cocktail dress.

“Bellamy.”

“What?” she asked hazily, still in shock that her next match was _him_. The man she had run into and utterly embarrassed herself in front of. Did the system even pair up people who had encountered each other before? Was this one big joke at her expense?

“My name,” he sighed. “It’s Bellamy.”

“Oh. Clarke,” she replied, sticking out her hand before she could second-guess herself. Her cheeks reddened as he stared at it questioningly. Who even shook hands anymore? Idiot.

His fingers touched hers and a rush of warmth flooded through her. When he let go, she clamped her hand under her thigh, hoping the tingly feeling would go away with pressure.

“So,” he prompted, “We meet again.”

With a small smile, Clarke picked up her device. “Should we…?”

He eyed his and shrugged carelessly. “If you want to.”

A frown pulled at her lips. Didn’t he want to check?

Their thumbs swiped over the agreement clause simultaneously. Her insides coiled with tension. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for. Her first match lasted only a week and her second was for three months. Clarke bit her bottom lip in apprehension.

They were both as still as statues when the answer was revealed. She exhaled softly, looking towards Bellamy to gauge his reaction.

_32 days._

“Well that’s…something,” he stated, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Don’t sound too excited,” she sarcastically drawled out.

His eyes finally lightened, a hint of amusement cracking through. Before he could reply a waiter walked over and placed their meals on the table. Steak and vegetables for him and a casserole for her. She waited for him to resume whatever he was about to say, but it seemed like the interruption made him clam up.

“Is it good?” she asked, pointing to his plate with her fork.

“Perfect,” he answered rigidly. His eyes returned to his food and didn’t glance up until they were finished and escorted to the car that would take them to their temporary house. Clarke watched as they passed buildings, the GMS logo stamped onto most of them, and the giant grey wall that blocked off the town from the rest of the world. People only left this place when they were assigned their life-long partner.

They went through the motions in contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When they did arrive at the destination, Clarke peered at the small, rustic house in anticipation. This was the place they would stay in for the next month. Together. Under one roof. She forced herself to breathe calmly.

Bellamy led the way, carrying most of their luggage inside. She followed and shut the door quietly. The minute it clicked everything suddenly felt more real. Her eyes drifted over the beige couches, the dining table, and every painting hanging on the walls, trying to avoid staring at the outline of the bed shown through the room divider.

Bellamy sauntered over to the mini kitchen. He knelt on one knee and searched through the bottom cabinets before pulling out a bottle of red wine. He looked over his shoulder with a grin that seemed almost out of place considering his sullen behaviour up until then. “You joining?”

Clarke walked to the island. He passed her a glass, their fingers briefly touching, causing yet another round of nerves to shoot up her spine. She hurriedly took a sip.

“Is this your first time?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Why do you think that?”

He pursed his lips, studying her facial expressions. She struggled not to flinch under his scrutiny. “You seem a little tense.”

“Yeah, well, so do you.” She looked away, trying not to cringe at how lame that sounded out loud.

He simply shrugged. “The whole dinner date thing isn’t my style. Besides the cliché-ness of it all, there’s something twisted about having no choice but to meet our matches through the same place, going on the same type of date over and over again. I mean, where’s the fun in that? How are you supposed to create special moments when everything is just a repetition of a previous date? Don’t get me started on the hideous piano music they keep playing to mask the sound of forced conversations around us.”

Clarke gaped at him. He frantically ran a hand through his messy hair and took another sip of his drink. A blush crept up his neck, giving away how flustered he really felt.

“How many matches does one go on before they reach that level of cynicism?” she finally asked.

His lips fought back a smile. “Around twenty, give or take.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’ve really done this twenty times?”

“Twenty-eight to be specific. Most of them were pretty short.”

She leaned against the island.  “That’s….”

“Horrifying?” His lips stretched into a smirk. “Let me guess, this is only your second time.”

“Third.”

“Close enough.”

She huffed. “I think it’s time we set some ground rules.”

His brows shot up in surprise, but he didn’t interrupt her.

“Rule number one, we’re sharing the burden of house chores.”

She waited for him to make any complaints.

“Are you seriously expecting me to refuse?” he asked disbelievingly.

“My last match said he would help out too, but three weeks into the relationship he started slacking off.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those.”

“One of those?” she repeated defensively.

He sighed. “People who apply baggage from their old relationships to their new ones.”

“That’s definitely _not_ what this is. Like I said, I’m just establishing ground rules. It’ll make things easier for both of us in the long run,” she stuttered. “Number two, we can’t hog the washroom for longer than an hour.”

He gave her another dirty look. “And which one of your exes did that?”

Clarke flushed, recalling her first match who liked spending at least a quarter of her day in front of the mirror. She ignored his jab and continued. “Number three, we can’t use our Coach to keep tabs on where the other person is or what they’re doing.”

Her freedom was not something she was willing to negotiate. Even though this place was a getaway for singles to find their perfect soulmate, she needed her alone time.

“Won’t be a problem,” Bellamy instantly replied. “Anything else?”

She paused, staring at the room divider with growing distaste. She hated having to even bring this up, but the best course of action was to just rip off the band-aid, right?

“About the sleeping conditions…” her voice trailed off.

Bellamy’s eyes flickered from her face to the hand that was tightly clenched around her glass. “I’ll take the couch.”

Clarke let out a surprised noise. “That’s it? We’re not even going to talk about it? You’ll just sleep on the couch until the month is over?”

“Why? You want to make pillow forts instead?” he teased, trying to get a rise out of her. It worked.

“Are we going to fuck or not?”

She bit down on her tongue, cursing her own impulsiveness to the deepest depths of hell. A beat passed, followed by the sound of his cackling as he threw his head back and laughed. Now it was her turn to be flustered. But discomfort on Clarke just looked like anger so she shot him her classic glare and waited for a response.

“Wow, sweetheart. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He gulped down the rest of his drink. “And to answer your question, I’m game if you are.”

Their eyes clashed with challenge. Clarke bit the inside of her cheek.

“Well what do people normally do?” she asked, stepping away from the island. “I mean, I slept with my second match, but only after we reached the two-month mark.”

She began pacing. “Is one month long enough for it to be worth it? Some people don’t even wait a week, right? But does it affect our data? Or what if the system judges us? _You’ve_ had more than twenty matches! What did you do in your previous ones?”

Bellamy gave her a perplexed look. The second he opened his mouth to reply, she interjected, “No! Wait! I don’t want to know. Just forget I asked.”

Clarke continued to pace, feeling agitated. “I want to know what most people do, not just one person. Like, is that a thing we can ask our Coach? The correlation between the first time matches slept together and how long they’d been dating-“

Bellamy’s grasp on her wrist halted her movement. He turned her around and fixed her with a stern glare. “We don’t have to act the way most people do, Clarke. Not unless we want to.”

He stood only an inch away and Clarke felt her body tremble as he leaned in even further. His lips traveled to her ear to whisper, “As nice as it would be, I think it’s best if we kept our distance instead.”

“So where does that leave us then? What do we do?”

He moved back, eyes still fixed on her with an intensity that didn’t quell down despite his best efforts. “Whatever the hell we want. For now, I’ll take the couch.”

“Why should I get the bed?”

“Because I’m trying to be a gentleman and I’m not in the mood to argue."

“That’s bullshit. I want to sleep on the couch,” Clarke vehemently stated.

He groaned. “Why can’t you just let me act nicely?”

“Because it’s fueled by old-fashioned misogyny. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight and that’s final.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Clarke-“

“ _Bellamy_ ,” she mockingly replied.

“There’s only one way to settle this then.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. “Heads, I get the couch. Tails, you do.”

Clarke sighed, agreeing. That was fair.

He tossed the coin in the air and caught it smoothly. His palm lifted off the coin and Clarke glowered at it.

The night ended with him sprawled on the couch and her lying in bed wide awake. She reminded herself once again why all of this was necessary. She still believed in love – in finding it, cherishing it, getting that happily ever after every girl dreams of. Love was attainable. Good luck, however, seemed to always be out of her reach.

 

* * *

 

The transition from strangers to snarky friends happened quicker than she expected. The fact that she didn’t want to gouge out her eyes at the thought of spending time with him spoke for itself. By day ten they had settled into a pattern.

Every morning he would wake up before her, shower, and start making breakfast. She would sleep in and vow to help out the next day. Bellamy would sit at the table and pull out a book while she would surf through the channels of the TV or work on a new art piece. They’d spend half the day in the house, sometimes together and sometimes apart. According to the system they couldn’t avoid spending time outside, however, so they’d head out for lunch and try to do something fun afterwards.

This place had everything from scenic gardens to indoor tennis. They tried a new activity every day, quickly learning that Clarke was excellent at art classes but exceptionally bad when it came to rock climbing, and that Bellamy enjoyed recreational sports but was more fond of the library than anything else.

He was a total nerd who breezed through a new book every three days and dropped ancient history references as casual remarks. Clarke was still amazed by how this side of him didn’t clash with his cocky personality. If anything, it only made him more attractive – a fact that she both loved and despised.

In the evening they’d normally get take out and head back to the house to continue binge-watching a TV show. At first it seemed like the sensible thing to do. Watching TV saved them from awkward silences and even more awkward conversations. Or at least that was the plan. It turned out that neither of them could watch anything passively. Bellamy had an opinion on everything and a monologue prepared to defend each one of them. Clarke was just as passionate. They butted heads constantly but she somehow found herself looking forward to the evenings.

Sitting side by side on the couch under a blanket and arguing over the decisions fictional people made became the highlight of her day. He fell for overused tropes in stories and she fell in love with his smile.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t try to act like a couple.

Whereas in her past relationships Clarke would make an effort to do all the right things, this time she was allowed to just be herself. Clearly, Bellamy didn’t give a crap about how their actions would affect their match-making for the future and she didn’t want to appear _too_ desperate.

They behaved like friends, with no expectations hanging in the air between them. It would’ve been a relief had it not caused her to develop a crush on him instead.

She tried to deny it at first.

The way he would run his hands through his hair when he got nervous? Lame. The sounds he unconsciously made as he read an exciting part of a book? Annoying. The way he smelled divine whenever he was close to her? Truly unnatural.

She hated herself for feeling like he owed it to her to try a pick-up move at least once. The way she rationalized it, if everything happened for a reason then their month of “dating” so to speak had to mean something. There had to be a lesson to learn about themselves or what they like. Something to take away from this when it ended.

Maybe the lesson was that she had to up her game. Some people had sex on the first night and she couldn’t even get him to sleep in the same bed as her.

It was the strangest thing. Some nights she had fallen asleep leaning against him during their binge-watching sessions and he had moved her to the bed. On other nights, when they couldn’t stop arguing over who slept where, he would pull out a coin again. And it would always work in his favour.

On day fifteen after a shot of vodka and some heavy thinking she gasped and ran to the living room.

He was loading the dishwasher when she marched over and stood against the island. He paused, recognizing her lethal calmness as a sign of impending fury.

“I’m getting the couch today.”

“Can we just skip to the part where I flip a coin?” he asked warily.

She half-lifted a shoulder. “Fine. Heads, I get the couch. Tails, you do.”

He stilled. A beat too late, he replied, “Nah. Let’s stick to tradition. You be tails.”

“I don’t think so,” Clarke objected.

She waited for him to pull out the coin, but he clenched his jaw and looked away with frustration.

“Bellamy?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s a two-headed coin, isn’t it?”

He hesitated and that was all Clarke needed to grab his hand and lead him to the bed. He frowned at her. “I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“I won’t,” she said, pulling down the bed-sheets and settling underneath them. She held her breath as he stared at her. Seconds slowly ticked by while she waited for him to say something.

Instead of replying, he shyly ducked his head and slid in next to her.

 

* * *

 

“Tomorrow’s day sixteen.”

Clarke turned her head but couldn’t see what his reaction was in the darkness of the room.

“We survived halfway,” she continued quietly, “The rest shouldn’t be too horrible.”

His arm lightly brushed against hers as he shifted. “No, it shouldn’t be.”

From what she could tell, he was lying on his back, stiff as a board. She turned on her side, facing him.

“Bellamy,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“It wasn’t horrible so far, either.”

Tentatively, he reached out for her hand. She didn’t hesitate a second before intertwining their fingers. Her heart raced as he tightened his grip in response, running his thumb over the back of her hand in circles.

“When I first saw the expiry date I thought I’d be in for a hell of a month,” he said, pausing to turn in her direction. “But this…this feels _right_.”

Clarke smiled. “Yeah, well, the system clearly knows what it’s doing.”

His thumb stopped moving.

“You don’t agree?” she asked nervously after he didn’t reply.

Bellamy took a deep breath and detached his hand. “I think you’re starting to sound like one of the coaches.”

“Why do you hate the system so much?” she demanded. “All of this will be worth it when we meet our soulmate. Do you not want that? Love? Someone who stands by your side-”

“I believe in love, just not the system,” he snapped. “There’s a difference. I mean haven’t you ever considered the old way? When people used to be able to decide who they wanted to be with?”

Clarke shook her head. “That’s absurd. Chaotic, even. Why would you make things so difficult for yourself when the system has proven to be far more accurate than human judgement? It can tell what you like and dislike, what you want and need. It collects all the information and pairs you up with someone that you’re 99.8% compatible with. You can’t get that by just guessing!”

“There’s no way of proving that either. People just accept their match without questioning it. Who knows what happens when they leave this place?”

Bellamy let out a sigh as Clarke fumed in silence. “And how can they tell what we like and dislike? If all our relationships are clouded by the knowledge that they’re short-lived won’t that affect our behaviour and results?”

Uneasiness rushed through her. “No, because they tell us to act like we would normally.”

“But what’s the point when it’s all temporary anyway?” he insisted. “Most people get matched up with someone they’d never met before which means all of these practice runs have no significance in our lives besides leading us to be with The One. It’s just a stop along the way.”

In that moment several things clicked into place. Every time he held back, refused to blur the line between friendship and something more…

“Maybe that’s just it,” she whispered, inching closer to him. “Maybe the real test is to see who you can’t help but fall for _despite_ knowing that you’ll be separated one day.”

Clarke wasn’t sure if she was even breathing as she reached out and traced his jaw. She felt him shiver under her fingers and that was all it took for her to give in and press her lips against his cheek.

He sharply inhaled. She went to withdraw but his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her near him. “You’re playing with fire,” he warned lowly.

Clarke couldn’t help but snicker. “What if I like fire?”

_What if I like you._

Bellamy lifted his arm and moved back without saying a word. The sting of rejection slapped her back to reality. Suddenly the air felt thicker and the bed was too warm, and nothing felt right anymore.

“Clarke-“

She let out a dry laugh, shooting up from the bed at the speed of light. “It’s cool! I get it. You don’t want to play by the rules and let yourself be vulnerable. That’s fair. I still think I’m right though. You’ll have to give out your heart to someone eventually. But clearly I’m not enough for you and that’s…fine. That’s totally fine.”

Backing away from the bed, she tried to make a quick escape to avoid his pitying looks and apology but tripped over a shirt on the floor. “As if things couldn’t get any more mortifying,” she thought as she lay on the ground and stared at Bellamy running over to help her. He turned on a lamp on the bedside table, took hold of her hands, and guided her back to the bed. She focused her eyes on his chest as he stood between her legs.

“Look at me Clarke,” he pleaded softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She didn’t.

He firmly kissed her forehead and she couldn't help but gasp.

“Is that a no?” he taunted, pressing more feather-like kisses on her temple. He knelt down as his lips traveled to the side of her face. She finally met his gaze and the intensity in his brown eyes conveyed more than words ever could.

And then his lips were on hers. He was heartbreakingly gentle, encircling her in his arms because even an inch of distance between their bodies was a travesty at this point. When the shock wore off, Clarke pulled him even closer by the nape of his neck and eagerly reciprocated. Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip and he shuddered. The kiss deepened as Clarke fell backward, pulling him on top of her. Bellamy moved with purpose, pouring every emotion he felt into his actions and soon they were a mess of arms and legs tangled up on the bed, starving for each other’s touch.

He pulled back too soon for her liking. Balancing on one arm above her, he made sure she was staring at him before speaking with authority. “You’re more than enough.”

As she tried to break eye contact he grasped her chin to prevent her from turning away. “I mean it, Clarke. You’re amazing and beautiful and so far out of my league that I’m pretty sure the system fucked up.”

A laugh bubbled out of her. She quieted down when she felt his hand caressing her face. Instinctively, she leaned into it. “So what now?”

Bellamy frowned in thought. “What do you think we should do?”

“I’ve never heard of people getting assigned the same partner twice. If the next sixteen days are all we have left, I don’t want them to fly by and still have any regrets.”

Clarke watched him silently mull over her words.

_Say yes. Say yes. Say yes._

“So, to clarify, you want to make the most out of the time we have left?” he asked, raising a brow.

“I want you,” she corrected firmly.

An indecipherable look flashed in his eyes. “You have me.”

And as he leaned down to steal the breath from her lungs, she wholeheartedly agreed with him. Nothing had ever felt more right.

 

* * *

 

Time passed by much quicker when one was happy. It was a fact Clarke grew to resent.

Things between her and Bellamy were different, and yet very much the same. They still bickered, he still did most of the cooking, and she still slept in until unreasonable hours. Except now she didn’t shy away from holding his hand, they cuddled a lot more, and she discovered that he had a kink for forehead kisses.

It was an unspoken rule to not bring up the expiry date.

She still believed in the system. She did. But when he laughed uncontrollably or made sure every bit of her was tightly tucked in at night, she wondered if this was the closest thing to love she’d ever feel for someone. The longer she spent getting drunk off of his kisses, the more she feared it was true.

 

* * *

 

“Can you stop?”

“Can _you_ just ignore me?”

Bellamy sighed, fighting back a smile as he flipped to another page. He sat on the window seat of the living room, book perched on his knee, with the Sun hitting him in the perfect angle. Clarke studied the way he kept one hand on the book and the other by his side and made the correct arrangements.

“This is weird,” he pointed out, once again flipping the page.

She was about to reply “get used to it” before she remembered that, no, he wouldn’t need to since their time was over in four days.

“Clarke?” he called out, seeing her lost in her thoughts.

She snapped her head towards him. “Yeah?”

“Can I get up now?”

“No!” she loudly protested. “I need to finish this drawing so I have at least something to remember you by.”

A hush fell over the room. He stiffened, returning his eyes to the book, but she didn’t miss the dark expression that crossed over his face.

“I take it as a sign that you’re preparing yourself for the inevitable,” he said with a bitter smile. “Smart.”

Her stomach sank. She didn’t mean for it to come across that way.

“What do you think your next match will be like?” he abruptly asked. “Maybe a young entrepreneur? You seem like you’d be into that. ”

Clarke shrugged uneasily. “I don’t know. What about you? What are you into?”

Bellamy’s eyes bore holes into the book. With forced casualness, he replied, “It’s my thirtieth turn. Maybe this time I’ll be assigned my final partner and get to leave this place.”

“The 99.8% match? Yeah, that’d be nice,” she replied dully.

He hummed and turned his head towards her. “They'd probably be a writer. Tall brunette with cute glasses and a love for history.”

Clarke’s heart twisted at his words. She nodded along nonchalantly. “My soulmate would probably be an artist. I’m picturing a blonde with an eight pack and several tattoos.

From the corner of her eye she noticed his hands curl into fists. “Are you excited about going on another first date?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“The only thing stopping me from climbing over that wall is the amazing steak they have,” he deadpanned.

Her brows furrowed. “Wait, is that a thing that people actually do?”

“Climb over the wall?” he repeated, catching on. “I’ve heard some rumours. Plus planned out an escape route in case things turn really bad.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Joking,” he said, holding up his hands. “Kind of.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Besides the guards with tasers in every block of the town?” he quipped. “Overall, this isn’t the worst in the place to live. I mean, we get free housing, free food, free…everything. All we have to do is go on dates in return and then, of course, there’s the whole soulmate appeal. Why would anyone risk all of that?”

His scrutinizing eyes were on her, examining her every expression.

Clarke smiled weakly. His words made sense, but she still felt disappointed. Which was bizarre because she felt the same way. A part of her agreed and another irrational part of her screamed: “ _You should be the one convincing me otherwise!”_

“I’m going for a walk,” he said, breaking her out of her reverie.

“Oh! Let me just grab my sneakers-“

“Actually, I’d rather go alone,” he interrupted. Clarke watched as he left the house. The door snapped shut and her heart shattered with it.

 

* * *

 

Time passed by much slower when one was in pain.

Bellamy hadn’t returned by the evening. To avoid overthinking it she lay on the couch and shovelled mint ice cream into her mouth. He had to come back eventually. There was no motel for people to resort to when they fought with their partners and living under the same roof was one of the requirements.

She stared at the half complete drawing in her sketchbook, tracing the outlines of his face.

His words from earlier still rang in her ears. Clarke wondered if someone else would make a drawing of him in the future. If he would reluctantly pose for another person, and then thank them with a kiss.

No. He said his soulmate would be a writer.

Would he edit their work? Would they go to libraries together? Work side by side in bed, trying and failing to actually get anything done?

Would he cook breakfast for them as well? Gently kiss their temple as they woke up? Laugh at all their corny jokes? If they were _his_ soulmate, they’d probably makes the best ones and he’d throw his head back laughing, and they’d make out, and then-

She had to stop thinking about this.

Clarke passive-aggressively roamed through the selection of movies on TV. They only had four days left and instead of acting like a happy couch potato with her, he’d gone off to do something “healthy” and “active.” It was disgusting. She felt disgusted.

She also felt hurt, but she certainly didn’t want to dwell on those feelings.

No matter how hard she tried not to think about Bellamy, he kept popping up in her mind. Their future was uncertain. There was a good chance they’d never get to spend time together again. Except, perhaps, after they left this town and went back to their old lives.

A series of thoughts and emotions slowly peddled into her subconscious mind. In a flash, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember.

_She couldn’t remember anything about her old life._

Clarke gripped the couch underneath her fingers tightly and took deep breaths. What was wrong with her? She needed to remain calm and figure this out. She needed…

She needed Bellamy.

Her eyes rested on her drawing once again and she sorted through all their interactions. If she couldn’t trust herself, she could trust him.

But he wasn’t here. Clarke briefly thought about all the places he could be, and then with a shake of her head, grabbed the black device from the coffee table

“Coach where is Bellamy?”

It flashed blue as it processed her words. “ _Would you like me to tell you his location?_ ”

“Yes,” she hurriedly snapped out.

A ring of red flashed across the surface before it replied, “ _Whitehorn Library._ ”

Clarke nodded absentmindedly, grabbing her jacket from where it was draped on a chair before it spoke again.

“ _Recalibrating.”_

Her head snapped to the device and what she saw made her blood run cold. The expiry date had changed from four days to thirty-six hours.

“What are you doing? Coach! What’s going on?” Clarke yelled at it hysterically, jumping two feet into the air as it kept going.   

“ _Recalibrating._ ”

_24 hours._

Her heart jumped to her throat. “Why?!”

“ _Breaking established rules has offset the expiry date_. _Recalibrating."_

“What rules?” she cried out confusedly. “People ask to find their partner’s locations all the time!”

“ _Your rules_ ,” it answered. _“Recalibrating._ ”

_12 hours._

In a panic, she recalled the first night they met. The guidelines she had set with Bellamy at the start included not asking for each other’s locations so that they could have some alone time when needed.

“No, no, no, you can’t…you can’t just do that! This isn’t that big of a deal,” Clarke insisted. “Set it back!”

“ _That is not possible. Recalibrating._ ”

“Shut up!” she screamed as the numbers continued to decrease.

“ _Recalibrating.”_

She angrily chucked the device at the wall and watched in relief as it cracked. Instead of picking it up, she hurriedly bolted out of the room.

 

* * *

 

The smell of ink and old books was in the air around her as she darted through the library. Her feet briefly stopped as she approached the sitting area of the third floor. Sure enough, he was where she expected – the most isolated and peaceful part of the building.

Except he wasn’t reading or making notes this time. His head was covered in his hands as he sighed heavily. She quickly took a seat beside him. “We need to talk.”

Bellamy looked up in shock. “Clarke? What-“

“We don’t have much time and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she said at the same moment

He knit his brows. Clarke pointed a finger at his pocket. “Check the expiry date.”

“It’s in four days.”

“Check it.”

He did as she asked and swore loudly. Clarke’s eyes welled up with tears as he stared at it in confusion and horror. “I’m so, so sorry, Bellamy.”

The look in his eyes softened as he took in her tears. “What happened?”

“I asked mine to find out where you were and then it just started…recalibrating, it said. I never should have made those rules on day one.”

Her words sent him reeling. “That’s bullshit! How were you supposed to know they’d take it that seriously?”

Clarke shook her head. “How much time do we have left?”

He turned his device to show it ticking down from forty minutes. She stifled her gasp. All her thoughts revolved around apologizing and making things right before their time was over. She had so many things she wanted to say and yet she remained speechless as he crushed her in a hug. The butterflies that erupted in her didn’t care about how much time this was taking up. She tightly wrapped her arms around his neck as more tears spilled out.

“Fuck it. I don’t want a soulmate,” he said when they finally parted. “I don’t care about meeting them. I just want you, Clarke.”

Her eyes widened. “What are you saying?” she asked hesitantly, trying not to get her hopes up. “You were fine with it in the morning.”

“I lied. _Obviously_ , I lied. I was just worried that you were ready to move on.”

“So..."

“So let’s climb over that wall and leave. You and me. Screw the system. Let’s just go.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. Without a second thought, she leaned in, slamming her lips against his. Her knees trembled as his hand ran soothingly up and down her back and then settled on her waist, pulling her closer. Whispers reached her ears, but she didn’t care as their tongues clashed and she found herself wanting more.

“Is that a yes?” he mumbled against her lips.

Grinning, she grabbed his hand and stood up. They ran down the stairwell and set their pace to a fast walk as everyone’s eyes followed them. An eerie feeling took over her as they didn’t move or speak.

Suddenly, she was pulled to a stop by Bellamy. She looked forward and noticed two guards in front of the entrance glaring at them with tasers.

Bellamy glanced between her and the guards. She squeezed his hand and they marched forward without stopping. The taser in the hands of the guard on the left hit her shoulder. She held her breath, waiting for the pain to strike.

Instead, everything stilled. The people, the clocks, even the stack of papers that were in the middle of falling to the floor from a table. Clarke and Bellamy gawked as they hung frozen in the air.

“I knewthis place was fucked up,” she heard him mutter.

Deliriousness coated her laughter as they walked through the town in both awe and apprehension. She took note of how no one else seemed to be in sight. The lights in every shop and house were closed. Thankfully, the street lights were still on. They passed the café where they met, the indoor gymnasium, and the hub for local security. The words GMS Incorporation flashed on the building, only for the letters to die out as they walked past it. They reached the wall in record time and stood before the ladder.

“Do you remember anything about what’s out there?” asked Clarke.

“I thought that was something we all collectively chose to ignore,” Bellamy replied. “Kind of figured we’d remember once we were allowed to leave.”

Clarke bit her lip, staring up. “Are you scared?”

“Whatever’s out there is better than this.” He grimaced, looking back at the town.

Clarke sighed in agreement. Her hand clasped onto the rung of the ladder when he cried out in alarm. She looked back and watched helplessly as everything around her seemed to deteriorate, Bellamy included. The sensation started from her legs and crept up. She lost feeling in her thighs, then her arms, and it continued until she felt like a pseudo form of herself - a million tiny pieces of Clarke. The world disintegrated beneath her feet.

When her eyes opened, she was greeted with darkness. A head turn to the right showed Bellamy looking just as bewildered as her. All at once, there were more of them. Different versions of themselves holding hands and dressed in clothes she had never worn.

A flash of light caught her attention and she watched as one of those versions reformed and molded into a blue ball of energy, floating to the top where they joined others in a circle. They were numbers she realized, locking eyes with Bellamy.

She should’ve been alarmed but as he smiled at her tenderly, Clarke felt at peace. She had no regrets.

The weird sensation returned to her bones, the only warning she got before they joined the others. The circle flashed brightly as it finished.

_1000 simulations completed. 998 rebellions logged. 99.8% match found._

 

* * *

 

Clarke Griffin glared at her phone as it beeped incessantly from her purse. It was bad enough that she had to finish this eight-page paper by tomorrow night. She didn’t need any distractions. Her fingers tapped methodically on her laptop as she tried to focus, hoping whoever was texting her would soon stop.

Instead, it began to beep loudly.

Clarke swore under her breath, pulling it out. She frowned as she noticed it wasn’t text notifications making the noise, but an app. She clicked on the icon labelled GMS, cursing Monty for his creation.

The Green Matching Services was apparently famous for its exceptional accuracy in pairing up compatible couples. Not that she would know since the highest percent she had ever seen in her own notifications was 45. If he wasn’t her friend, she would have deleted this app a long time ago.

She swiped through the latest run and her mouth dropped open.

_99.8% match – Bellamy Blake._

Clarke darted her eyes across the room and stopped at the person whose picture was on her phone. He was beautiful. He was also staring right back at her with a growing smirk on his face.

She immediately averted her eyes back to the laptop, internally yelling at herself to calm the fuck down before she looked like a fool.

Did people even listen to this thing all the time? Some ignored it, right? Could she ignore such a high percentage though? Would he?

The chair beside her was suddenly pulled back. She pretended to appear unaffected. 

Bellamy smiled at her and then gestured towards the seat. “May I?"

He was carrying a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in another. She took in his dark hair, friendly smile, and mischievous eyes before uttering a yes. And as they sat side by side in the library of Arkadia University, Clarke knew for a fact that they would not get any work done.  

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for @blainchel for Bellarke Valentines 2018. Hope you liked it!
> 
> I made some slight changes from the Black Mirror plot (mainly because I really love Monty). I haven't written fan fiction in around two years so sorry if this is rusty! How it went from what was intended to be 3000 words to more than 7000 is beyond me...
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated! Thanks for reading <333


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